


Colour and Sound

by putyournamehere



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, iwaoi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:17:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4335320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/putyournamehere/pseuds/putyournamehere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa watched for the way his eyes reflected the sky after practice as they sat and watched the sun set in late summer, or the way they sharpened and tracked the ball on the court. It was something he found to distinct to Iwaizumi, and in those moments he found he has no care for words, but only for the reflection of the world in Iwaizumi’s eyes.</p><p>or: Oikawa realised he likes Iwaizumi a little bit more than 'friendly'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colour and Sound

**Author's Note:**

> My first contribution to the Haikyuu!! fandom and the first fanfic I've written in a few years, enjoy!

Oikawa was known for his words; the way he enchanted his fans, the eloquence of his essays that charmed teachers, the heartfelt encouragement and compliments that helped make him the captain he was – the sounds of emotion and the crafting of words was something he constantly utilized, even in his own mind. Even at his worst words and sounds sprung and jumped in his mind, even if he couldn’t possibly string them together, but they were there, a reflection of him in one of the few ways he knew were absolutely true. 

Iwaizumi, he knew, was never one for words. He always knew what to say to Oikawa, but they weren't nearly as fluid. At six years old, showing Oikawa a particularly creepy beetle that he would have run away from if it wasn’t for the way Iwaizumi’s eyes lit up, that Oikawa first saw outside of the sounds and words. The bugs s hell was metallic, hardened and shining with a golden coffee tint and _alive_. 

It was pretty gross, and Oikawa was about to say so when Iwaizumi suddenly spoke.

“It’s the same colour as your eyes,  Tooru .”

It wasn’t spoken in a deprecating manner, nor an affectionate one; just a casual but blunt observation. If he had said it to anyone else, they might have been offended by being compared to a beetle from some trodden patch of earth – frankly Oikawa was a bit affronted. But he saw Iwaizumi’s face, the way his eyes were wide and enamoured by the bug he cradled as if it were a delicate treasure, the shine that reflected in his irises and Oikawa knew that if anything, it was a high compliment; Iwaizumi saw shapes and colours, always having fumbled over his words  and choosing crayons over storybooks. Being compared to something that Iwaizumi looked at with such adoration made Oikawa blush somewhat and giggle, looking closer at the beetle (it wasn’t too bad, there were worse things Iwaizumi had caught before). Sound was Oikawa’s reflection, but in that moment he wanted nothing more than the feel  the way colours wrapped around his friend’s mind, to see if they bought out the same waves of emotion that music and words did for himself. 

Even as they grew up and Iwaizumi became more easily acquainted with his words (although he still stumbled in his Urdu his mother had him speaking and even more so in English, but he was fluent enough to get by), Oikawa watched for the way his eyes reflected the sky after practice as they sat and watched the sun set in late summer, or the way they sharpened and tracked the ball on the court. It was something he found to distinct to Iwaizumi, and in those moments he found he has no care for words, but only for the reflection of the world in Iwaizumi’s eyes. 

X

“ Iwa-chan !  Don’t leave without me!”

“Then don’t dawdle with strangers, Trashykawa.”

Oikawa caught up to Iwaizumi, tugging his scarf close around his neck. “I can’t believe you, leaving me helpless on a cold, dark street – and they wanted a picture with me, I couldn’t just deny them. I’m not a brute like you are.”

Iwaizumi huffed. “Keep talking and I won’t make you dinner .”

“Rude  Iwa-chan ! Like your mother would let me starve!”

“My family’s out, idiot, my mother would never know.”

“I’d tell her, how her evil and cruel son denied me a meal on this freezing night.”

Iwaizumi knocked him with his shoulder. “Like you wouldn’t just break in and steal something from my pantry. Hell, you’d probably steal my meal from under me.”

Oikawa grinned as they turned the corner down their street. “And you’d let me, because you love me!”

Iwaizumi just laughed, looking up at the sky. It really was dark out, the sun setting early late in the year and the clouds heavy with falling snow. The clouds were glowing in a way that only happened on these winter nights, when the orange of the street lamps around the city lit up the sky like a fairy tale. It chilled them to the bone but the colours and shapes in the sky kept Iwaizumi’s attention as they made the rest of the trek.

Once that were outside the Iwaizumi household, Oikawa pouted. “ Iwa-chan , it’s freezing, let us…” he trailed of as he glanced at Iwaizumi, and his breath left him. He hadn’t said anything and all he could hear were the echoes of cars in the background, but his heart pulled tight in his chest as he watched Iwaizumi look at the sky. Iwaizumi didn’t often day dream, or be caught off guard and Oikawa could easily take advantage of it but there was something about the peaceful, serene look that reflected in his eyes, like him at the sky were old friends looking on fond memories (maybe colours did hold memories for Iwaizumi, the same way poems and song did for Oikawa . He pushed down the sudden longing to understand the memories, the colours and the world Iwaizumi saw).

Oikawa would have  left him if they weren’t chilled to the bone.  He nudged him gently and spoke softly. “ Iwa-chan , we’ll freeze like this.”

That jolted him out of his reverie. Iwaizumi blinked at him before quickly scrambling for his keys and ducking his head, as he was caught doing something crude. “Right, sorry.”

They entered the house and followed the normal routine of their Fridays – Iwaizumi’s parents would be out visiting people while their children did what they pleased, being old enough to have that responsibility. More often than not this left Iwaizumi and Oikawa in the house alone to cook d inner, clean up, and then Oikawa  would occasionally sleep over ( Hanamaki  once commented on the extreme domestic nature of this once when Oikawa described their Fridays to him. “It’s cute, I didn’t realise you were already getting ready for your future together.” He’d said with a crooked smile. Oikawa huffed and looked away to hide the colour of his face, but  Hanamaki  no doubt caught it).  The rest of their daily lives changed according to whatever was needed, but this was always their stubborn routine, stubborn, constant and comforting – like his friendship with Iwaizumi, Oikawa thought idly. 

When they were cleaned up, they settled on Iwaizumi’s bed, Iwaizumi finishing off his work early and Oikawa lazing on his phone. At least, he would be if he wasn’t so focussed on Iwaizumi. He wanted to look, properly look rather than side glances, at Iwaizumi’s eyes. Everyone always spoke about how bright and beautiful Oikawa’s eyes were, how prince like he looked; Iwaizumi was far from this. His eyes were smaller, darker, but to Oikawa that just made them more focussed, sharper. Pressed against the wall he could see Iwaizumi’s eyes, although shadowed by his eyelashes , dark and  brown, but specked here and there with green. Maybe that was why his eyes always looked so alive when he was out bug-catching as a kid, his eyes melding perfectly with the mossy surroundings, alive and blooming. Oikawa felt a twinge in his gut again, the same feeling from earlier as he watched Iwaizumi stare up at the sky. Sure Oikawa loved words and sounds (Iwaizumi’s voice was his favourite, even if he’d never admit it), but there was something about the way  Iwaizumi looked at the world in its more beautiful moments and Oikawa wished he could be part of the colours Iwaizumi looked at so endearingly. He got part of his wish; Iwaizumi had caught him staring.

“What?” Oikawa huffed a laugh; what a brutish way to open a conversation.

“Nothing  Iwa -chan . Have you finished yet?” He moved over to sit besides Iwaizumi, resting his head on the headboard. Iwaizumi grimaced and closed his folder, letting in drop on the floor beside  him.

“I’m not g oing to get any more done today.” They fell silent, and Oikawa was about to go back to his previous thoughts before Iwaizumi cut in. “What’s wrong?”

Oikawa blinked.  “Nothing?”  The response only made  Iwaizumi  frown . 

“You’ve been silent all evening. I almost found it hard to concentrate without you in the background.” Oikawa laughed at that; he was pretty vocal when watching videos on his phone, or generally he hummed to fill up the silence.

“Normally to tell me to shut up; don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with my sweet voice,  Iwa-chan !” he grinned, and earning himself a kick from the other. Iwaizumi had all his attention on him now and Oikawa knew he’d eventually spill his thoughts. He shifted his position and tried to word himself.

“What is it about colours that you like so much?”

 Iwaizumi cocked his head slightly, edging Oikawa to explain. “Well, you know I’ve always liked sound right? Like music and poems and just general talk?” 

“Don’t I know  it. ” Iwaizumi muttered and it was Oikawa’s turn to kick before he continued.

“You know words and sounds have always been my forte, and a lot of people like music too, but you always get this look on your face whenever you see certain shapes and colours , like the sky earlier .” Oikawa shrugged and laid his head back down on the board. “I was just curious, that’s all.”

Iwaizumi mulled over the question for a few moments. It was a pretty weird question, but it wasn’t nearly as weird as some of the things Oikawa asked him, so he relented.

“I don’t know. I guess it’s just the way I’ve grown up. I mean you know my mum paints in her spare time, right?” Oikawa nodded. His mother wasn’t a professional artist, but her work was amazing, bold colour strokes just on the side of abstract. Iwaizumi continued “I guess I just prefer it. She always used to paint with me after all, and there are some things that words can’t get across that colours can. It’s just a feeling I get.” Iwaizumi shrugged, and returned his focus back to Oikawa. “Why were you thinking about that, anyway?”

“I’m allowed to think about things other than volleyball,  Iwa -chan .”

“Really?  You had me fooled. I assumed we were going to be planning a wedding for you and the volleyball.” 

Oikawa huffed and jabbed him in the side. “Mean,  Iwa-chan !” 

"Are you saying we're not having the wedding? You're going to have to break it to the ball."

"I can't believe there are people on our team who actually respect you as a serious person."

"Who said I wasn't serious? The ball will be heartbroken."

"Oh my  G_d ."

X 

Oikawa wouldn't let Iwaizumi leave his mind after that. 

Or rather, he couldn't. They were always in sync with a lot of things, but for one of the few times this was something Oikawa couldn't understand. He could appreciate art of course, understand why some artists were so important and great, but he never connected to it, not the way Iwaizumi did. Colours never dragged out raw emotion from him, never clutched at his heart or held his eyes for longer than necessary. He was never particularly bothered by it, but suddenly he felt a dire want to understand what Iwaizumi saw (or maybe he just wanted to be the one who created the emotion, the one who Iwaizumi looked at with such intensity; but those were thoughts for him alone). 

It wasn't until  Hanamaki  and  Mastuwaka  spoke up that he realised what a problem it was becoming.

"You've been staring at him for ten minutes straight."

"That's a record even for you, to be honest."

Oikawa squa w ked  at them. "I am not! And what record, I don't stare at him anyway!"

Hanamaki  and  Mastuwaka  both smirked at him from their seats in the classroom .

"Denial isn't healthy,  ya  know."  Hanamaki  said, glancing at the subject of their conversation.  Iwaizumi was sorting something out with another student near the door as people enjoyed their  lunch hour. 

"Quit it Maki, this is just another mystery of the universe . Like, w ill Oikawa ever acknowledge his secret affections? Will I waizumi ever not look like he just rolled out of bed? We just can't know."   Mastuwaka  grinned as Oikawa huffed and looked away. Unsurprisingly, Iwaizumi did in fact look like he had just rolled out of bed, seemingly unable to actually wear his uniform correctly. For all Oikawa complained about him being a brute, he  supposed it was part of his boyish charm.

"So, spill, what's got you enamoured by our ace these days?"  Hanamaki  asked. 

"More so than usual, at least."  Mastuwaka  added on. Oikawa  nob ly  ignored his cont ribution. 

"I'm not enamoured with  Iwa-chan ! I'm just curious, that's all." They both looked at him entirely unimpressed.

"Curious. Really. You can do better than that, Oikawa."  Mastuwaka  said.

"I am though!" It wasn't a lie. He was curious. He was curious about the way Iwaizumi thought and felt and he was definitely curious about the way the cold winter sun shined through the windows and highlighted every angle and contour of Iwaizumi's face  and the way their bright uniforms just seemed to bring out every change in the tone of his dark skin  and the way his eyes shined in classes he was particularly interested in and how he wanted to count each shade and speck of colour and how he wished  Iwaizumi's eyes would shine at him like that and-

"Oh no." Oikawa whispered, horrified.  Mastuwaka  and  Hanamaki  just looked at him knowingly .

X

Oikawa was, frankly, awful with feelings. Sure, he had a lot of friends in high school and even more admirers, but feelings were sticky, never just washing away and he never dealt with it the right.  Hanamaki  and  Mastuwaka  were one of the few people who knew that, and Iwaizumi knew it even better (but he never left; Oikawa bit and screamed but Iwaizumi never left. He hoped that never changed). 

Still, normally he went to Iwaizumi with these problems, but this time it seemed he was on his own. Talking to his crush about his crush wasn't exactly the greatest plan of action.

And was this a crush? Sure Oikawa had had a couple of  partners , but they didn't last long. He always had to devote more time to volleyball, and even without that he was simply content with Iwaizumi at his side.

But  it  felt different  now . He would look at Iwaizumi and there'd be a pang in his gut; not pain ful , but pleasant and nervous at the same time but more powerful that he'd felt for any of his partners before.  It was terrifying. It was terrifying but it felt  right . And he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

It took a few weeks of staring too long and flushing too much before  he did anything about it.

"Are you into guys,  Iwa-chan ?"

Iwaizumi looked up from his work, startled. "Huh?"

"Are you into guys?" Oikawa asked, surprisingly calm compared to how he was actually feeling. It wasn't really a big deal, but Iwaizumi had never really shown an interest in dating apart from a couple, whom he had never allowed Oikawa to meet because 'you'd probably kill them'. He guess he did come off as a little possessive, but only a little. Maybe.

"I guess so." Oikawa snapped his attention back to Iwaizumi, who just shrugged and drew swirls on his work. "I mean, gender has never really changed whether I'm attracted to someone or not."

"Pansexual, then?"

Iwaizumi nodded. "Yeah, that's the word." He looked up again. "Why'd you suddenly want to know anyway?" 

'Oh no reason, I was just really hoping that was a chance you'd be willing to make out with me' is really what came to mind, but Oikawa flushed and violently forced to thought away. 

"Ah, I was just,  ya  know curious. Since you thought I was going to kill anyone you dated with my dashing looks, obviously, I didn't know." Was what he said instead, grinning as he dodged the pencil chucked at his head. 

"Trashykawa , now you know then." There were a few moments of silence where Iwaizumi returned to his work on the floor of Oikawa's room, desk set out in front of them. 

"So. ..do you like anyone?" 

"Excuse me?"

Oikawa sighed dramatically. "I know you're as grumpy as an old man,  Iwa-chan , but that doesn't mean your hearing's as bad."

Iwaizumi kicked him under the table. "Shut up, I can hear you perfectly fine."

"So, answer the question."

"Why are you suddenly interest in my romantic life?"

"Because I'm a good friend, and frankly if you do like someone you'd need all the help you can get considering you're such a brute." He'd admit to himself that he probably deserved the textbook to the face that time. He laid down and propped his head up with his hand.

"So?" He prompted.

"So what?"

Oikawa  huffed. "So who do you like?"

"Why would I tell you?"

"Because I'm your best friend, and  therefore  it's up to me to defend my  Iwa-chan's  precious honour from your undoubtedly poor romance skills!"

Perhaps Oikawa did deserve the bag that was thrown at his face that time, but the rest of the night went on and Oikawa's question still hadn't been answered. Perhaps he was overthinking this, being so used to clean rules and action-reaction tactics. So the next day he decided to settle on a simple plan:

Step 1. Ask Iwaizumi Out

Step 2. Deal with happiness or utter gut-wrenching heartbreak

It had been three days since and step one was yet to be complete. Oikawa wasn't willing to admit he was scared, but cautious maybe, balancing between an answer to his feelings in one hand and a shattered friendship in the other (after all the plan carried a terrifying make-it-or-break-it theme, with the idea that this would finally force Iwaizumi away but Oikawa swallowed the thoughts like bile). But regardless, he wasn't one to sit around and wait for things to happen, so on the fourth day he decided he'd push forward, and he'd find he answer no matter what.

X

It was a simple plan, and yet the one time when a plan mattered the most he had gone and acted on impulse. 

_It was warm, hell it was sweltering and Oikawa could feel blood rush through his head, his hand's on Iwaizumi's shoulders and the harsh press of mouths between them. It was messy, but it felt right and Oikawa almost let himself relax into a state between euphoria and contentment. Almost._

Any warmth from the kiss had long gone by known, and had switched with the burning terror that had forced Oikawa out the door and had him sprinting down the road, with little mind to the rain soaking him through. Such a simple plan, such a big mistake.

_"Oikawa?"_

_Oikawa stared back at Iwaizumi, crouched next to him and god he looked beautiful. Oikawa looked away. Whatever emotions where on Iwaizumi's face, he didn't want to see it._

He'd ended up at the ponds, and took refuge under a tree. He'd come here for as long as he could remember, scaring his mother out of her wits the multiple time he'd come here to sulk, brood, or just be. But he didn't want any of those things, frankly he was lost. Whenever he had a problem, he'd go to Iwaizumi (it was always Iwaizumi it seemed, good or bad, there was always Iwaizumi). He fished out his phone and dialed.

_"Yo, Oikawa, what's up?"_ Hanamaki's voice rang through the speaker.

"I have a problem."

_"Did you ask Iwaizumi out yet? It's painful for us to watch you dance around each other, ya know."_ Mastukawa, of course, somewhere nearby.

"About that..."

_"What? Please don't say you somehow messed up."_

"I don't know! I didn't exactly ask him."

_"Exactly? The love doctors can't help you if you don't give us the symptoms"_ Hanamaki spoke. 

Oikawa refrained from commenting on that, "It's not...I probably messed up."

_"Probably isn't definitely, you know that."_

"I know but...?"

_"It's not like you to hesitate. Just talk to us, it honestly can't be that bad."_

"I kissed him, alright?!" Oikawa took a breath. "I kissed him and I ran and I'm stuck by the ponds because I can't go back."

There was silence on the other end. Oikawa almost thought he'd killed them from second-hand stupidity, but eventually it was Mastukawa who took the phone.

_"Stay right where you are alright, don't go anywhere."_

"What? But I-"

_"Go. Nowhere. Glue yourself to the tree to pass the time, but stay there."_

Before Oikawa could protest the line went dead. Incredible. Not only was Oikawa left alone again, but he was almost considering gluing himself to the tree just to spite them. Instead he sat down on a relatively dry patch of grass and waited. This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid; being left alone with his thoughts to replay the events again and again, Iwaizumi crouching next to him, the painful yet fitting flourescent light that shone behind him, the taste of energy drink, how he wanted to taste again, _god it felt so right_...

Yup. Exactly what he wanted to avoid. Oikawa scrubbed at his mouth to get the thought away and let his head thump against the tree. Why had he gone with the plan? He would've been content to watch Iwaizumi from afar, no matter how painful it was has he moved on to other people, he would've been content to watch life reflect in Iwaizumi's eyes, watch the way he gazed at the sky, and maybe he didn't want to admit it but as much as he words were Oikawa's forte, but he'd swap his words just to be able to keep gazing at Iwaizumi the way Iwaizumi gazed at the world. But of course, that was in ruins now. Perhaps he'd be able to salvage their friendship, play it off as a tired accident and return to the comfortable companionship they'd had for over a decade. And maybe one day this would turn out to just be a high school crush, and they'd both move on, maybe recounting it as another passing anecdote of their youth to their future lovers. Maybe this would end. 

"I've already had to sprint around to spike your sets today, Trashykawa, did you have to make me run all the way up here?"

Oikawa nearly hit his face on the tree, turning around so fast.

"How did you know I was here?!"

Iwaizumi scowled, dragging himself down to wear Oikawa was sitting. "Mastun and Makki called me."

_Traitors._ Oikawa pouted and looked away and the silence between them grew tense, interrupted only by the rain and Iwaizumi's quick breaths. 

"So, are you going to talk to me?"

"What's there to talk about?"

Iwaizumi grumbled and ran his hands threw his hair. "Really? This is how we're going to do it? I thought you were good with words."

_Not when you're around._ Oikawa discarded that thought, more interested in the harsh words that were completely undermined by the soft tone Iwaizumi used. 

"Look, I was just curious."

"Curious."

"Yes! Curious. And tired. It was an accident and it's not going to happen again. Ever. I promise."

"You promise."

Oikawa's breath hitched. "I promise."

The rain continued around them, but Oikawa thought he might combust anyway, feeling sick to his stomach (but god so hopeful that this could be salvaged). 

"What if I said I didn't mind you breaking this promise?" 

Silence.

Oikawa turned to look at Iwaizumi, whose face was pointedly turned away and  _was he blushing?_

"Excuse me?"

Iwaizumi scowled. "Don't make me repeat myself."

He was definitely blushing, and suddenly Oikawa felt like he might combust for an entirely different reason. 

X

Watching Iwaizumi in the dim lamp light of Oikawa's bedroom, he could almost understand his love for colour and art. It could be considered cliche to compare his boyfriend to art, but he always was a sucker for sweet romance novels and happy endings (even if this was no ending, far from it and Oikawa couldn't have been happier). And maybe he understood music and sound better than art and colour, but listening to Iwaizumi's soft breath and he slept besides him and the soft glow of light that caught on his hair, he thought, well, maybe he didn't have to choose. He could have his favourite sounds and favourite sight always here besides him (it was always Hajime of course, and he knew it would always be Hajime, now and forever). 

**Author's Note:**

> Heh, I didn't really know how to end it so have it on a sappy sweet note. The ending seemed very rushed but it turned from a tiny drabble into a full oneshot so I'm pretty pleased! 
> 
> I'm at metaphorical-pie (tumblr) or metaphoricloud (twitter) if you want me!


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